I grew up on the mean streets of Budgeford, southwestsiyeede.
Everybody always talkin' 'bout how us hobbits got it good, well, only thing Budgeford is known for is big fat Bolger Bossmen, Pig Farming, and Pig Killing.
Thass right, somebody has gotta bring the old deathbag to all them lil' piggies and turn 'em into somethin' them blasted high-falutin' Gamgees can gnaw on like rats without feelin' guilty, somebody has gotta take ole Dora's Chickens by the neck and shake 'em loose 'fore they land in a pile of beautiful fruit on somme Gammer's table.
And I bet you can juss guess who they get to do it.
Ain't the Bolgers in their big fancy houses upwind of the stink of the pens, thass fer sure.
Its us Penal Colony Hobbits, part of the Shire's Work Release Parole Program for the Ethical Reformation of Failed Burglars.
This is all that blasted Wizard's fault, y'know, with his Old Toby Cartel and his Fire and Brimstone and his fireworks shows and stories 'bout how great us Hobbits is at burlgary, gettin' into our heads when we was all wee lil' Hobbits in our tweens.
Fact is, not all of us Hobbits is so great at burglary.
Some of us just ain't all that sneaky.
Its only the rich Hobbits that're sneaky heh.
Tell you what else, this crap about not wearin' shoes is all good fer them Hobbits what can spend their days frollickin' 'bout like elves in the soft meadows and readin' poem books and ain't gotta muck it up to their nuts in the pigpens and the gristle and gore of the ole slaughterhouse, howjoo like a lil' bit of that 'tween yer toes, yessir, wuzzat ya got danglin' there, a mashed bit of eyeball?
But there's one thing me and my droogs here got goin' fer us.
And that's that we always got each other's backs.
Juss gonna give a shout out to my homies workin' the docks in Stock, 'cause they know what I'm talkin' 'bout, breakin' their backs 'cross the river from those Rich Bucks and all them Brandybuck Tennis Courts and Mansions and what all.
And a shout out to the good swamp folk of Frogmorton, dunno what we'd do without their cheap and nasty-ass moonshine to keep us second class citizens who can't 'ford nuthin' better powered up and cheerful.
One of these days we is gonna have ourselves a lil' revolution baby.
Oh its coming alright, we got us some things in the Works.
Hey, Lotho, try to keep up, my Gammer runs faster than you, you ain't payin' us 'nuff to carry all this and yer fat hobbit ass everywhere.
Frickin' laywers.
Monday, January 7, 2008
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